Home Sweet Home
by Micaiah
Summary: Tag to 10.02. Sam and Dean have a conversation about home on the drive back to the bunker. Sam's POV.


**Tag to 10.02. This fic came from Sam saying "You're my brother and I'm here to take you home" and the fact that I re-watched Slumber Party recently and there was a lot of talk about Sam and home.**

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><p><em>I'm on my way<em>

_I'm on my way_

_Home sweet home_

In the back seat, Dean has grown quiet since his promise of showing me no mercy. I can't see his face clearly in the rearview mirror because of the dark but it's almost a blessing. It hurts to look at him…to know he's my brother, but also that he's not. I'm not concerned with his threats. The only thing I'm concerned with is whether or not the cure will really work. Can I get my brother back or will I, once again, fail to save him?

_I will save my brother or die trying._

It's what I'd told Crowley and I meant every word. I've let Dean down so many times. I can't do it again. I _have_ to save him. He died thinking I didn't want to be brothers but I never meant it. I never meant any of the horrible things I said to him. I was pissed and I always end up saying things I regret when I'm pissed but never nothing more than what I said to Dean about not being brothers.

_You're my brother and I'm here to take you home._

I hoped that finding Dean would prove I still wanted to be brothers but instead…he laughed at me. Listening to him mock me had almost been too much. It had taken every ounce of resolve I had left to stand there and take that…to not let him know how much I've been hurting since he's been gone and how much more it hurt to find him and to know he no longer cares.

The road in front of me blurs and I wearily swipe at my teary eyes. I am tired. My body aches from injuries and exhaustion. The last few weeks have taken its toll on me but it has been worth it. I've finally found my brother and we are going home.

Home. Funny how I never thought of the bunker as home until the one thing that made it home was gone. I never had a home…at least not a home in the way most people think of home. No white picket fences, no memories of Mom and Dad doing whatever normal things parents do….no memories of Mom at all. I tried to have a home with Jessica and for a while I really thought it would work but I should have known better. That kind of life was never in the cards for me. And I don't even like to think about what I tried with Amelia. I knew that was never going to work from the moment it began but I had let myself believe it was okay, that I could have a normal life, all the while my brother was in purgatory and I never even bothered to look for him…I would never be rid of that guilt. Of all the selfish things I've ever done, that will always be the worst.

Dean shifts in the back seat and I stiffen, waiting for another verbal assault.

"You seem a little tense, Sammy. Are you worried?" Dean chuckles. "Of course you're worried. It's what you do. You should be careful. That furrowed brow is gonna freeze like that one of these days."

I choose to remain silent. Dean is smart. Becoming a demon didn't lessen that fact or the fact that my brother knows me and knows exactly how to shake me, to throw me off my game. The less I say, the better.

"What's the matter, Sammy? Don't you want to catch up on what's been happening since we last saw each other?"

I grip the steering wheel tightly with my left hand. I know what's happened since the last time I saw Dean. I know what I've done and I know enough about what he's done. I don't want to talk about it, especially not while he's a demon. But Dean really does know me. He knows how hard it is for me to stay silent. He knows how I overanalyze things. He knows how many times I've bored him to tears while talking, plenty of those conversations happening in this very car, his baby…who is now nothing but "just a car."

"Just shut up, Dean. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Aw, Sammy, don't be that way. You'll hurt my feelings."

My jaw clenches as I bite back the words that threaten to spill out of my mouth. I finally manage to spit out, "We'll talk later, after I get you home."

"Home?" Dean scoffs. "That's the second time I've heard you use that word today. What happened to the Sam who thought the bunker was just a place to work? Did you finally put up the "hang in there" kitty poster while I was gone?"

"No." I know I should leave it at that but I can't. "I finally figured out what home really means."

"Is this part two of the Lifetime movie?" I can't see the smirk but I hear it in the tone of his voice. "It's really not fair that I can't see the tears in your eyes. It would make your performance more believable."

"IT'S NOT A PERFORMANCE!"

My hands jerk the wheel but I manage to keep the Impala on the right side of the road. I take a deep breath and blink back the tears that Dean can't see but knows are there. I have to stay focused. His life depends on it and he knows it. He is doing everything to distract me and it's only going to get worse.

"So, tell me, Sammy. What does home really mean to you?"

"What do you care?"

I can see the slight shrug of his shoulders in the rearview mirror, even though his face is still masked in darkness. "I don't. I'm just bored."

I know I shouldn't tell him. I know it's his version of psychological warfare but what if something happens and I can never tell him? What if the cure doesn't work and instead of being a demon or being cured, he dies? Or what if something happens and he kills me in the process? My brother would never know how I feel and I can't take that chance. Demon or not, he has to know.

"Home isn't a place, Dean…not really." I swallow hard against the lump I've suddenly found in my throat. "I've always had these ideas of what a perfect home should be and the bunker, of all places, didn't fit that ideal picture but what I never realized is home is where you feel safe. It's where you're accepted for who you are, no matter how many times you screw up. It's where you're loved and protected. It's where you're never alone."

I fall silent, tears streaming down my face. I wait for his mocking laughter but it never comes. After a few moments he quietly asks, "So, if home's not a place, then what is it, Sammy?"

"It's you, Dean."

When he doesn't respond, I reach for the radio dial. We have finally crossed over into Kansas and the bunker is less than an hour away. After all these weeks of frantic searching, my brother is finally here with me….he is home.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome and encouraged! I love feedback.<strong>

**Lyrics from _Home Sweet Home_, Motley Crue**


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